A Hard Day's Night
by Muzzy-Olorea
Summary: -FA- Set after '4.14 Playing With Matches'. Maybe staying late to do paperwork wasn’t so bad after all.


**A Hard Day's Night**

**[FAng Set after [4.14 – Playing With Matches Maybe staying late to do paperwork wasn't so bad after all.**

_**Disclaimer: The plot's mine, just borrowing the rest.**_

**A/N:- I don't usually write fics this short but I had this scene in my head that just fit perfectly so here we are.**

The reason why he hated his job sometimes could be summed up in two words: case reports. With the twists and turns this case had taken this report seemed to be never-ending. Flack stared at the file in front of him hardly believing he was writing the words 'toilet', 'drowning' and 'ketchup' in the same sentence. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that this case had to make the list of top ten weirdest cases he had ever worked - and living in New York that was really saying something. Taking a break for a moment he downed the rest of his coffee and surveyed the bullpen. It was late, already an hour after his shift had ended and most people had either gone home or were out on call. Hearing familiar voices, he glanced over at the door where Angell stood talking with Lindsay.

It was unusual for him not to know where exactly he stood with a woman but with Angell it seemed like they were hovering on the edge of being more than just two colleagues that exchanged flirtatious banter during stakeouts and discussed cases over coffee and yet there was something holding them back … another reason why he hated his job right now.

As if she could feel his eyes on her Angell shifted slightly and looked over at him and gave him a small smile before finishing up with Lindsay and heading over.

"I think my five year-old niece could write a report quicker than you Detective Flack." She said glancing at the open file.

"Cut me some slack. It was a bizarre case."

"More bizarre than a combination of rain, oils from the road and steel soled shoes transforming a luge racer into a human torch?" Angell said perching on the edge of his desk.

"A woman transferring blood from a ketchup packet onto her fingers in order to get her boyfriend, which she met on a dating website for felons, out of jail died in a public self-cleaning toilet which the owner of a rival company had sabotaged so that he could get the city contract." Flack challenged, leaning back in his chair and twirling a pen round in his hand. She was sitting so close he could smell her perfume and it unnerved him how much it affected him.

"Okay you win." She laughed, raising her hands in defeat.

"I think the weirdest part of it all for me is the fact that there's actually a dating website for criminals." Flack said flicking through the file and pointing to a screenshot of the site. "I mean surely no one's that desperate?!"

Angell shrugged. "It's not about that. I guess some girls like the whole dangerous bad-boy thing."

"Please tell me you don't find that attractive?" He replied without thinking.

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him interestedly. "Are you _jealous_ Flack?"

Flack chuckled nervously. "I just can't get my head round the fact that this website is getting twenty thousand hits a day." He said trying to change the subject even though he knew she would see right through it. He hated that he was normally unflappable and yet making him blush seemed to come second nature to her.

She didn't say anything for awhile and when he looked up and met her gaze she was smiling, her eyes sparkling like she was enjoying the effect she had on him.

"Lucky for you I like my men in a suit and tie and on the right side of a jail cell so they're very much available to take me to dinner." She said, nudging his leg with her foot.

Flack bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to restrain the urge to start grinning like a school boy. "I think I might know somebody." He replied with an effort to sound carefree and suave.

She smiled and stood up moving closer to him before leaning forward and lowering her voice. "Well you better tell him that he had better get a move on with his paperwork or I'm going to find someone else to eat with." She said before resting a hand on his shoulder, letting her fingers graze his neck slightly as she walked away.

Flack let the feeling linger for a minute before he looked back down at his file and grinned. Maybe staying late to do paperwork wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
